There are some things I saw in Istanbul which will never escape my mind.

This women is most likely not even a Syrian refugee. She's probably a Turk or a Gypsy. She holds a child which is a victim of child trafficking. The child is drugged to sleep with vodka or some other drug. At the end of the day, the woman will give her bounty to a gang leader who is hiding in the shadows. She'll receive a small sum in return, maybe enough to buy her a little food. The woman and child will be in the same place the following day. The child is only a commodity to these people. He or she will most have a short life due to all the drugging, but is also easily replaceable.

I'm only one person, but I constantly ask myself what can I do. I'm still searching.

I speak in U2 lyrics;So I try to be like YouTry to feel it like You doBut without You it's no useI can't see what You seeWhen I look at the world